Chapter 3: Decisions, Decisions...
Harry awoke early the next morning, well, that's what he thought. Hermione, as if on cue, came in the door as he opened his eyes. She squealed with delight and dropped her bag on the floor next to her. She smiled. "How long have I been asleep?" Harry asked. "Well, 4 days. How long have you been up?" "About a 35 seconds." "Wow, I should consider an acting career..." "Hermione?" "What?" "I may have slept, but I'm hungry now and..." Harry said innocently. "Oh, come on, get your own food." "But Hermione, my knees will drop, and I'll break my leg and slowly, painfully, perish away..." "Drama king. Fine. I'll get your stinking food." She finally said, making Harry smile. He heard something about how lazy he is before she continued walking away.
Hermione came back about 10 minutes later with a mountain of food, and said, "Now, eat all of this, and it'll make me feel better because you look anorexic, and that is definitely not healthy." She said, taking a seat on the bed. "All of it?" Harry asked. "Yes, all of it." Hermione answered. "Well, I must say, nobody's taken care of me like this since...I was 14." He said, sitting up in his bed. "You don't need all of the attention all the time, you know." "Yes I do." "Don't." "Do." "Don't." "Do." "Don't." "Don't." "Do." "HA!!" "God, Harry, why must you actually start acting childish at this point of your young life?" "Dunno. It's like a...reflex." "Do you even know what that is?" "Nope. But that's what I've got you for. You're the human dictionary." "Oh, was that a compliment?" "Sort of."
That night, Harry couldn't sleep. Even after his immense pile of food that he'd vomited after Hermione left, and his stomach wasn't so full anymore, he was still thinking, 'G-U-I-L-T-Y. Guilty, guilty, guilty.' He could fall asleep, but every time he did, he had a dream that he was in a court...
"Mr. Potter, you are being charged with the murder of Sirius Black. Several people say you had no reason to murder this man. You are also being charged with murder in the first degree. How do you plead?" "Guilty, your honor." "You are sentenced to life in a hole of depression and guilt."
He woke up. He was still in the hospital bed. Harry missed his bed, his bed in the dormitory. He also missed Hedwig. She'd gone out to deliver a letter to Fred and George's Shop in Diagon Alley. He was ordering some stuff from them. 'God, Hedwig, hurry up.' He thought. He sat in his bed all night long, and unfortunately, it was a Hogsmeade weekend, and Hermione and Ron were leaving the next morning. He was being abandoned.
Though they promised him that night that they would bring him something back, he still felt as if he were being disowned by his best friends. It had only been 10:30 when he had awoken from the dream after he fell asleep at 10:00. How was he going to explain this to Ron and Hermione? That he couldn't sleep after all the food, and that he just had a horrible stomach ache? "You'd think they'd figure it out by now, but no, they won't even mention his name. It's as if he never even existed. Nobody talks about him anymore. I bet they don't even think about Sirius." He said to himself.
The next morning, Harry picked up a mirror that was on the table, and looked at himself. "Hair, messy as normal. Eyes, just as nice. Eyes...not just as nice..." he said to himself as he saw the horrible bags that had disappeared the night before back again. "Great, now they will wonder."
In Hogsmeade, Hermione and Ron were sitting in the Three Broomsticks talking. "He's not going to get much better." Said Hermione. "Sure he will, he's the Boy-Who-Lived." Said Ron proudly. "No, he's a depressed 16-year-old who absolutely despises the way he lived up to age 11, and the way he's treated every summer, along with his hatred for the Slytherins." Hermione said, as if to protect her other friend's purpose.
"Okay, but still, how come we just can't confront him-?" "Because if we confront him, it will make him more upset than he already is, and if you do that he might go...over the edge." "You mean..." Ron ran his finger over his throat. Hermione nodded. Ron's eyes widened at this thought.
"Well, Ron, it's time to go. Come on." Hermione said as she and Ron walked out of the Three Broomsticks, towards the crowd of the other students.
Back in the hospital wing, Harry waited impatiently, and tried to sleep, but couldn't. He heard footsteps coming from the doorway, and lifted his head up just in time to see his two friends entering. He tried to sit up in his bed with what little strength he had left, but with no avail. Ron made his way over to him and helped him get propped up against the pillows.
Everything that happened the past night wasn't talked about, and they continued joking around. "So, Harry, how are you feeling, mate?" Ron asked after a huge laughing fit was caused when Ron acted as if he were afraid of pillows. "Fine. I mean, I don't feel all that weak or anything and I really think I've been getting more sleep," he lied. Everyone in the room knew he was lying, but nobody said anything against it.
Because, in truth, he wasn't fine, he was weaker than Neville in front of Snape, and he hadn't had any sleep. "Wow, by the look of your eyes, it doesn't look like you've been getting any sleep."
If anything, he'd rather die now than stay in that state. Hermione gave Harry a 'you've-been-lying-to-us-all-along-haven't-you' kind of look. Harry nodded a little. He did have some of the best friends a guy could have, and about 1,000,000 people counting on him to save their lives from Lord Voldemort. But he knew that no matter what, he had to do it, and if he didn't succeed, then he would wind up back in the hospital, and everyone would hate him. He sighed. "I'm getting tired. I think I'm going to go to bed," said Harry all of a sudden. "Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow," said Ron.
Hermione threw her bag over her shoulder, and dropped a piece of paper on the bed before walking away. She looked over her shoulder, smiled, and continued walking. Harry looked strangely at the piece of paper before unfolding it.
Dear Harry,
Why on earth do you continue to avoid us? We can make things better, but you have to understand. Eating disorders are bad for you, just as sleeping disorders are. If you do not eat or sleep, you will never get any better and you will quickly die. So please make things better, we're worried about you, and you know it!! But, if you honestly want to get over...well, you know, then you're going to have to eat and sleep, and then I'll be completely satisfied. When I first took you to the hospital wing, you were so light; it was like...holding Crookshanks or Hedwig. That's really bad for you, because you are 16 and should weigh more than that. Anyway, hope you get better soon. Goodnight.
Hermione
Harry finished reading the letter. It wasn't really his fault he threw up any food that was given to him, because he hadn't eaten any in so long, that if he ate it, even the slightest crumb, it felt like way too much. He then felt really bad. But if he were going to get over this, he would have to see Sirius again. And there was just no way possible to do that. The past was over, and the future was coming. 'Wait a minute, the past? I could see everyone that's died, and I could tell them exactly what was going on. I could warn them about everything...Voldemort killing my parents, Sirius falling behind the veil—I could be...like...a...psychic...' he thought.
The following morning, Harry went to Dumbledore's office, and he knew that Dumbledore was going on a vacation, but couldn't take Fawkes with him. Harry thought this as a perfect opportunity to leave his own time period. "Professor,"
He said when he got into the office. Dumbledore looked up. "I was just asking if...I could take care of Fawkes while you were out." Dumbledore smiled and said, "Well, I imagine that my beautiful Phoenix could use some taking care of while I'm away. Okay." Dumbledore said happily.
Harry smiled. Harry looked up and Dumbledore had disappeared to Jamaica. Now the only thing that mattered now was to find the right thing in Dumbledore's office. He looked up on the shelf. He saw a row of Time Turners. One labeled hours, another days, another weeks, and then there were months, years, decades, centuries, and so on. He picked up the Decades Time turner and put it in his hand.
He turned it twice, and immediately felt sick to his stomach. Harry opened his eyes. He found himself in a large bed. It felt somewhat familiar. It was the same exact bed he slept in when he was in the boys' dormitories. He looked around. 'It figures, just one of Old Dumbledore's little trinkets.' He thought as he sat up in bed. He decided that he might as well go into the common room and stare at the flames; lying in bed was getting him nowhere. He walked down the stairs and saw the silhouette of someone already on the hearth rug. The girl turned around, and his first thought was Hermione. But he slipped off the last step and fell to the ground. The girl swung around and said, "James?"
A/N: Isn't that nice. And don't worry, I'll update soon, and you'll see the story. It will turn out with some pretty normal stuff that goes on in the teenage lives of some people. Well, I'm going to write number four now. Buh- bye!!
Harry awoke early the next morning, well, that's what he thought. Hermione, as if on cue, came in the door as he opened his eyes. She squealed with delight and dropped her bag on the floor next to her. She smiled. "How long have I been asleep?" Harry asked. "Well, 4 days. How long have you been up?" "About a 35 seconds." "Wow, I should consider an acting career..." "Hermione?" "What?" "I may have slept, but I'm hungry now and..." Harry said innocently. "Oh, come on, get your own food." "But Hermione, my knees will drop, and I'll break my leg and slowly, painfully, perish away..." "Drama king. Fine. I'll get your stinking food." She finally said, making Harry smile. He heard something about how lazy he is before she continued walking away.
Hermione came back about 10 minutes later with a mountain of food, and said, "Now, eat all of this, and it'll make me feel better because you look anorexic, and that is definitely not healthy." She said, taking a seat on the bed. "All of it?" Harry asked. "Yes, all of it." Hermione answered. "Well, I must say, nobody's taken care of me like this since...I was 14." He said, sitting up in his bed. "You don't need all of the attention all the time, you know." "Yes I do." "Don't." "Do." "Don't." "Do." "Don't." "Don't." "Do." "HA!!" "God, Harry, why must you actually start acting childish at this point of your young life?" "Dunno. It's like a...reflex." "Do you even know what that is?" "Nope. But that's what I've got you for. You're the human dictionary." "Oh, was that a compliment?" "Sort of."
That night, Harry couldn't sleep. Even after his immense pile of food that he'd vomited after Hermione left, and his stomach wasn't so full anymore, he was still thinking, 'G-U-I-L-T-Y. Guilty, guilty, guilty.' He could fall asleep, but every time he did, he had a dream that he was in a court...
"Mr. Potter, you are being charged with the murder of Sirius Black. Several people say you had no reason to murder this man. You are also being charged with murder in the first degree. How do you plead?" "Guilty, your honor." "You are sentenced to life in a hole of depression and guilt."
He woke up. He was still in the hospital bed. Harry missed his bed, his bed in the dormitory. He also missed Hedwig. She'd gone out to deliver a letter to Fred and George's Shop in Diagon Alley. He was ordering some stuff from them. 'God, Hedwig, hurry up.' He thought. He sat in his bed all night long, and unfortunately, it was a Hogsmeade weekend, and Hermione and Ron were leaving the next morning. He was being abandoned.
Though they promised him that night that they would bring him something back, he still felt as if he were being disowned by his best friends. It had only been 10:30 when he had awoken from the dream after he fell asleep at 10:00. How was he going to explain this to Ron and Hermione? That he couldn't sleep after all the food, and that he just had a horrible stomach ache? "You'd think they'd figure it out by now, but no, they won't even mention his name. It's as if he never even existed. Nobody talks about him anymore. I bet they don't even think about Sirius." He said to himself.
The next morning, Harry picked up a mirror that was on the table, and looked at himself. "Hair, messy as normal. Eyes, just as nice. Eyes...not just as nice..." he said to himself as he saw the horrible bags that had disappeared the night before back again. "Great, now they will wonder."
In Hogsmeade, Hermione and Ron were sitting in the Three Broomsticks talking. "He's not going to get much better." Said Hermione. "Sure he will, he's the Boy-Who-Lived." Said Ron proudly. "No, he's a depressed 16-year-old who absolutely despises the way he lived up to age 11, and the way he's treated every summer, along with his hatred for the Slytherins." Hermione said, as if to protect her other friend's purpose.
"Okay, but still, how come we just can't confront him-?" "Because if we confront him, it will make him more upset than he already is, and if you do that he might go...over the edge." "You mean..." Ron ran his finger over his throat. Hermione nodded. Ron's eyes widened at this thought.
"Well, Ron, it's time to go. Come on." Hermione said as she and Ron walked out of the Three Broomsticks, towards the crowd of the other students.
Back in the hospital wing, Harry waited impatiently, and tried to sleep, but couldn't. He heard footsteps coming from the doorway, and lifted his head up just in time to see his two friends entering. He tried to sit up in his bed with what little strength he had left, but with no avail. Ron made his way over to him and helped him get propped up against the pillows.
Everything that happened the past night wasn't talked about, and they continued joking around. "So, Harry, how are you feeling, mate?" Ron asked after a huge laughing fit was caused when Ron acted as if he were afraid of pillows. "Fine. I mean, I don't feel all that weak or anything and I really think I've been getting more sleep," he lied. Everyone in the room knew he was lying, but nobody said anything against it.
Because, in truth, he wasn't fine, he was weaker than Neville in front of Snape, and he hadn't had any sleep. "Wow, by the look of your eyes, it doesn't look like you've been getting any sleep."
If anything, he'd rather die now than stay in that state. Hermione gave Harry a 'you've-been-lying-to-us-all-along-haven't-you' kind of look. Harry nodded a little. He did have some of the best friends a guy could have, and about 1,000,000 people counting on him to save their lives from Lord Voldemort. But he knew that no matter what, he had to do it, and if he didn't succeed, then he would wind up back in the hospital, and everyone would hate him. He sighed. "I'm getting tired. I think I'm going to go to bed," said Harry all of a sudden. "Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow," said Ron.
Hermione threw her bag over her shoulder, and dropped a piece of paper on the bed before walking away. She looked over her shoulder, smiled, and continued walking. Harry looked strangely at the piece of paper before unfolding it.
Dear Harry,
Why on earth do you continue to avoid us? We can make things better, but you have to understand. Eating disorders are bad for you, just as sleeping disorders are. If you do not eat or sleep, you will never get any better and you will quickly die. So please make things better, we're worried about you, and you know it!! But, if you honestly want to get over...well, you know, then you're going to have to eat and sleep, and then I'll be completely satisfied. When I first took you to the hospital wing, you were so light; it was like...holding Crookshanks or Hedwig. That's really bad for you, because you are 16 and should weigh more than that. Anyway, hope you get better soon. Goodnight.
Hermione
Harry finished reading the letter. It wasn't really his fault he threw up any food that was given to him, because he hadn't eaten any in so long, that if he ate it, even the slightest crumb, it felt like way too much. He then felt really bad. But if he were going to get over this, he would have to see Sirius again. And there was just no way possible to do that. The past was over, and the future was coming. 'Wait a minute, the past? I could see everyone that's died, and I could tell them exactly what was going on. I could warn them about everything...Voldemort killing my parents, Sirius falling behind the veil—I could be...like...a...psychic...' he thought.
The following morning, Harry went to Dumbledore's office, and he knew that Dumbledore was going on a vacation, but couldn't take Fawkes with him. Harry thought this as a perfect opportunity to leave his own time period. "Professor,"
He said when he got into the office. Dumbledore looked up. "I was just asking if...I could take care of Fawkes while you were out." Dumbledore smiled and said, "Well, I imagine that my beautiful Phoenix could use some taking care of while I'm away. Okay." Dumbledore said happily.
Harry smiled. Harry looked up and Dumbledore had disappeared to Jamaica. Now the only thing that mattered now was to find the right thing in Dumbledore's office. He looked up on the shelf. He saw a row of Time Turners. One labeled hours, another days, another weeks, and then there were months, years, decades, centuries, and so on. He picked up the Decades Time turner and put it in his hand.
He turned it twice, and immediately felt sick to his stomach. Harry opened his eyes. He found himself in a large bed. It felt somewhat familiar. It was the same exact bed he slept in when he was in the boys' dormitories. He looked around. 'It figures, just one of Old Dumbledore's little trinkets.' He thought as he sat up in bed. He decided that he might as well go into the common room and stare at the flames; lying in bed was getting him nowhere. He walked down the stairs and saw the silhouette of someone already on the hearth rug. The girl turned around, and his first thought was Hermione. But he slipped off the last step and fell to the ground. The girl swung around and said, "James?"
A/N: Isn't that nice. And don't worry, I'll update soon, and you'll see the story. It will turn out with some pretty normal stuff that goes on in the teenage lives of some people. Well, I'm going to write number four now. Buh- bye!!